


When You Say You Need To Let Go, What Exactly Are You Letting Go Of?

by emily_420



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, M/M, Public Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, they're sad emo twenty-somethings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emily_420/pseuds/emily_420
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They head to the beach near midnight, for no particular reason other than that life is kinda kicking all of their asses and they need to do something whimsical once in a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Say You Need To Let Go, What Exactly Are You Letting Go Of?

**Author's Note:**

> based on miscellaneous stuff i’ve said on [twitter](https://twitter.com/actualmukkun), and some conversations with [aurora](potsugi.tumblr.com) and [kel](hopeasielu.tumblr.com), who i love  
>   
> [this song](http://agendermura.tumblr.com/post/114412584495) goes with this fic really well

Takasugi can hear Kamui moaning in the back seat. He wants to honk the horn to get them to knock it off, so he does, a long, uninterrupted beep. There's no other traffic on the road, not at this time of night, so it's not like it really matters. Takasugi hears Sougo curse, maybe he's hit his head, and feels satisfied, but only a little.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Sougo asks; in the rear-view mirror, Takasugi sees him rub at his head. Good.

“Can't you wait until we get there?” he grouses.

“Aw, are you feeling left out?” Kamui asks, unaffected but seeming a bit regretful at having his face separated from Sougo's.

“No,” Takasugi says pointedly, eyes fixed on the dark road. “It's distracting.”

“ _Distracting_ , huh,” Sougo says – he might be leering, Takasugi won't look – and Takasugi honestly wants to kick him right then.

“I'll crash if you don't shut the fuck up,” Takasugi says – it's Sougo's car they're in, it almost always is because Kamui's car is full of trash and questionable paraphernalia and Takasugi's smells so strongly of smoke that Sougo refuses to sit in it.

Sougo leans forward in the seat, or he must, because his voice is close behind Takasugi's ear. “If you crash her I'll kill you.”

He won't. Takasugi knows he won't.

.

They're at the beach, not for any special reason other than that life is sort of kicking all their asses and they sometimes need to do something whimsical. It's late but not _really_ late – twenty to midnight, the clock on the dash of Sougo's car tells them – so it's not deserted yet, there are still groups of friends gathered on the pavement and in the mostly-deserted park, couples laughing as they walk along, swinging their hands together. It _is_ late enough that they get a parking space, a bit away from the main stretch, that would have been a miracle during daylight hours.

They pile out of the car, none of them dressed to go swimming – Sougo's wearing thongs and Kamui took his shoes off, has them in hand but that's it. They did bring towels though, three and a spare, because Takasugi over prepares, and Sougo slings three of them over his shoulder. It's even darker down here, in a more populated area, because the stars are hidden away by light pollution. It's also windy, like it always is by the seaside, but being night time it's much, much cooler, chills Takasugi even through his tightly buttoned jacket.

Meandering over to the path that cuts through the fence that separates the beach itself and the park fringing it, Takasugi stops for a second to take his shoes off – he isn't keen on getting sand in them – and in that small gap of inactivity Kamui and Sougo get bored and go for the swings. They stand upright on them, recklessly trying to swing higher than each other, the chains holding the seats up jerking and catching under their weight.

With some effort Takasugi coaxes them down, and they head down the beach, into a brighter sort of darkness, now that they're away from artificial light and the almost-full moon has come out from behind a silver sheet of a cloud. The ocean is louder than during the day thanks to the silence night affords, a gentle unseen breaking of waves, an invisible comforting presence. The tide is low, so there's more beach than usual to walk across; the sand is cool and then cool and wet; it squishes up through the gaps between Takasugi's toes, creeps over his bare feet. Kamui, he's pretty sure it's Kamui, takes his hand, lightly tangles their fingers together. Takasugi doesn't mind, not like this, not in the dark where he feels more like himself.

The water's warm, at least in comparison to the air that bites at his exposed skin, and they trail through it, Kamui swinging their interlocked hands and Sougo kicking water at both of them. Takasugi makes in inconsequential comment that Sougo takes offence to, and suddenly something's snagging at his ankle; it feels like there are fingers digging into his skin, but before Takasugi has time to do anything to with that thought he crashes backwards into the shallow water, tugging Kamui down with him. Takasugi scrambles back up, holding his shoes up high, trying to salvage them at least and shakes the water out of his hair. There's water and sand in his eyepatch, so he snatches it off his face, stuffs it into his pocket, wipes his face, annoyed but not angry.

Kamui, Takasugi sees in the bright moonlight, isn't bothered at all by the water logging his clothes; he's still sitting where he fell, laughing a little, and Sougo is laughing back at the sight of him, taking simple pleasure like a child.

“You're both so uncool,” Sougo says through his breathless laughter, which intensifies into something that's coming straight from his diaphragm. “Seriously!”

Takasugi kicks water at him in fake moodiness. “I'm wearing jeans, I fucking hate you.”

“You don't,” Kamui says, and he's right. Takasugi makes a non-committal noise.

Kamui gets up, talks about taking his pants off because they're wet, _actually_ takes his pants off because they're wet. Takasugi feels his jeans stick to the back of his thighs, catch around his knees, thinks that he should do the same, but he's not wearing underwear and he does have limits.

Sougo points to a spot in the sand dunes, a dip between them that would mostly hide a small group of people from view. Kamui's on board, tugs Takasugi along behind him as he hurries over, and Takasugi starts to smile and can't stop. He must look ridiculous, grinning like this, but neither of them are looking at him and it's just so _funny_. Nothing really matters, he thinks, it doesn't matter if things are tough; he's not alone and there's still fun to be had. He laughs aloud into the wind, a careless bark of laughter unlike anything he's heard come from his own mouth before, and Kamui and Sougo laugh, too, as if they're all in on the same joke. Maybe they are; the beach is empty and it's cold and they're wet and they're about to screw in the sand dunes. Fucking hilarious.

Sougo spreads the towels over the sand, and Takasugi fumbles through his box of cigarettes; they're dry, thank God, and he lights one, watches Sougo push Kamui down to continue what he started in the car earlier. Takasugi doesn't mind watching them as he smokes, he's enjoying just being there and they'll be ready for him when he's done. He tips his head back, looks up at the moon, and gets the distinct feeling that this is as happy as he will ever be. If that's so, he wouldn't mind; his chest feels light and his lips keep threatening to twitch upwards. He flicks his cigarette into the sand, wrestles his way out of his jeans, takes his jacket off but leaves his shirt on, for now.

Takasugi sits down beside them on the towels; Kamui sits up and they shift around, accommodating him. He puts one leg behind Kamui, tucks the other beneath himself; Sougo makes up their minds for them and occupies himself with Kamui's neck, pressing wet, lingering kisses along it, and Kamui grips at his shoulders, puts a hand behind Takasugi's neck and drags him into a messy kiss. It's cold, theoretically too cold to be sitting half-naked out in the open, but Takasugi doesn't feel that way – with Sougo's hand on his thigh, Kamui pressing close to him, he's warm, burning up.

Sougo's rubbing circles into the soft skin of Takasugi's inner thigh, and, with his eye shut, Takasugi reaches for Kamui, presses a hand between his and Sougo's chests to rub at his nipples. Kamui expresses his appreciation by returning the favour, sliding a hand under Takasugi's shirt, and pleasure shoots from that point of contact outwards, travels all the way to his groin. Takasugi breaks the kiss to pull Sougo into it. Kissing with three people was strange, the first few times, but they're used to it, good at it, even, by now. It's a bit messy but it feels good, all three of them together, melting into each other, mouths sliding in perfect coordination.

Whatever Sougo's doing to Kamui, it's making him moan into their mouths; Takasugi shifts a bit closer, runs a hand up his leg. He doesn't touch Sougo, not very much, because Sougo doesn't need it like Kamui does, he's happy with what's to come. Speaking of which, Sougo pulls away a little, mumbles against their mouths, “Where's the-”

“Jacket, my jacket,” Takasugi mutters back, and Sougo gets up for it, leaving him a bit colder. Takasugi moves to sit behind Kamui, his legs on either side of him. Takasugi runs his hands down Kamui's front, one of them going to play over the soft skin at his hip, the fingers of the other curling around the base of his erection, stroking upward lightly, teasingly, as he sprinkles kisses up Kamui's spine. Kamui leans his head back against Takasugi's shoulder, his eyes pressed shut. Sougo's back, bottle of lube in hand, two condom packets held between his teeth.

“Alrighty,” Sougo says, letting the condoms fall onto the towels before resuming the position between Kamui's legs, “time for the good stuff.”

Takasugi wonders, does every time, why Sougo needs to be so cheesy, but it's okay, he can live with it, it's not worth an argument, especially not as Sougo lubes up his fingers, leans over Kamui, grinning sharply. Takasugi doesn't tighten his grip on Kamui's dick as Sougo presses his fingers into him, but keeps his touch barely-there, because once you go from barely-there to something more solid you can't go back and he wants to tease him a bit longer. Sougo manoeuvres Kamui's legs so they rest over Sougo's bent ones, and this must mean something good because Kamui makes a muffled sound, twists a hand in Takasugi's hair as if to ground himself. Takasugi shifts to the side a bit, moves his attentions to Kamui's neck, one of his hands going from his hip to his chest.

Kamui isn't gasping, not yet; Sougo fiddles around adding a bit more lube to his fingers, thrust what seems to Takasugi to be four fingers into Kamui, and Kamui bites down on his bottom lip hard. Takasugi closes his hand over Kamui's erection properly, gives him long, firm strokes to detract from the pain and resists the urge to rut against the small of Kamui's back. Not yet. Not yet.

Sougo leans forward and kisses Kamui, hard, it looks like, but Takasugi doesn't feel like a third wheel, just keeps lavishing Kamui's body with attention, lets Kamui lean back into him so that Takasugi's supporting his weight. Sougo must really be working the finger magic, since Kamui's forgetting himself enough to sloppily break the kiss with him. Sougo reaches for a condom with his free hand, tosses it over next to Takasugi, says, “I'll let you go first this time.”

It's not the worst thing he's ever said, so Takasugi takes it, rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom over his erection, which, by this point, is so ready to go that he hisses at the contact.

Sougo lifts Kamui by the hips and – somewhat awkwardly – transfers him to Takasugi's lap; Kamui gets a knee on the ground, supporting his weight, and Sougo hands Takasugi the lube. Once he's slicked himself up enough, Takasugi lays a hand on Kamui's hip, says lowly, “Okay,” and Kamui lowers himself back and down, Takasugi guiding his cock towards his entrance. The pleasure is slow and burning, Takasugi wants so badly to fuck Kamui's ass with abandon but he knows from experience that restraint now will make it better later, in a inconsequential handful minutes, and he can wait.

With Kamui fully situated and breathing hard, Takasugi starts jerking his cock again, and Sougo ducks his head, uses his mouth to play with Kamui's nipples. After a while of this, but not too long as to be annoying, Kamui lets out a deep breath, lifts himself up and slides back down on Takasugi's cock. Takasugi, not expecting it, makes a muffled noise and bites down on Kamui's shoulder. Kamui continues like this, fucking himself on Takasugi's dick in the cool moonlight, and Takasugi's about to take pity on Sougo when he invites himself back to the party, slathering lube over his fingers again. Kamui, his eyes half-lidded, makes a pleading sort of noise.

Sougo smirks. “You want it, right?” he asks lowly. “You want us both at the same time.”

Kamui nods shakily, faltering, and Takasugi slams up into him.

Sougo leans in closer to Kamui, his hand creeping lower, the other coming up to stroke underneath Kamui's chin. “You love it every time, I can tell,” Sougo says, tracing his fingertips around the ridge of Kamui's asshole; Takasugi can feel his touch graze his dick.

“I don't hate it,” Kamui laughs a bit, and Sougo abruptly presses in two fingers alongside Takasugi's cock, Takasugi can feel them clearly, probing and stretching. Kamui's hips jerk downwards. Then they come back up, an easy slide, and back down again. Takasugi takes a short, sharp breath; he's warm, warmer than anything Takasugi can think of at the moment, and smooth and _good_ around Takasugi's cock, it's so good he's meeting Kamui's hips with his own, attacking his neck again. Sougo adds another two fingers all at once, Takasugi feels, and Kamui doesn't even seem to mind, just keeps slamming desperately down on them. Sougo pulls Takasugi's head up, hungrily mashes their mouths together; Takasugi takes it upon himself to turn it into something more pleasant, sliding his tongue over Sougo's, teasing him a bit without words. Sougo bites his lip, hard.

Pulling away, Takasugi says, “Unnecessary,” and Sougo smiles at him. He smiles back.

“Hang on,” Sougo says, pulling his fingers out, leaving Takasugi a bit lonely in there. “We need to – this isn't gonna work.” Kamui comes down particularly hard on Takasugi; Takasugi stifles a moan, thinks that Kamui's probably giving Sougo a defiant look. “Takasugi, lay down,” Sougo tells him, ignoring Kamui.

“Come on,” Takasugi mutters into the redhead's ear – it's easier to do what Sougo wants, and a lot of the time it's worth it.

So Kamui lifts off him, and Takasugi shifts forward before laying down so his head's not in the sand. Sougo tells Kamui to turn around, and Kamui makes a tiny sound of understanding, braces himself over Takasugi, and, looking him dead in the eye, guides Takasugi's erection back to his ass. He shuts his eyes, sighs, says quietly, “Sougo, now you.”

Sougo's already there without prompting, already wearing a condom and rubbing lube over his cock, a predatory look in his eye that Takasugi is accustomed to, knows won't lead to anything overly terrible. He doesn't bother with his fingers this time, just nudges Takasugi's legs wider, kneels between them, presses his erection up along side Takasugi's and into Kamui, slow and careful, for now. Kamui's biting his lip again, thumps his head down on Takasugi's shoulder; Takasugi rubs a hand over his back, knows that he'll be fine in a minute.

A minute later, Kamui is fine, more than fine, he's pressing back onto both of them greedily, lust burning behind his blue eyes. Sougo's pace is faster than Takasugi's, they're terribly mismatched, but it works anyway, all three of them going at their own speed. It's a jarring, discordant melody, but they do not stop; Sougo, who was holding himself back earlier, is slamming roughly into Kamui the way he likes to, Takasugi is almost lazily pressing up into him, and Kamui is loving it, eating it up, can't get enough of them, his hips undulating over and over, his cock trapped between his and Takasugi's bellies.

They're pretty quiet, which isn't unusual but it's not really normal, either; Sougo's gritting his teeth, Takasugi can just barely make out his jaw working, and Kamui is panting, puffs of hot, humid breath hitting Takasugi's neck. Takasugi has his lips pressed firmly shut, at least for a while, but then Kamui's going faster, and he can feel the pressure of release building in his groin, throws control out the window, matches Sougo stroke for stroke. Kamui's hips spasm, Sougo reaches around and strokes his cock, and Kamui cries out, comes all over Takasugi, but Takasugi can't find it in him to care, he just wants, needs, craves an orgasm, and it's so easy with them, with Sougo's erection rubbing against his own, with Kamui a beautiful mess in between them – he gives three, four more thrusts and he's coming, he can't hear anything, the ocean might not have even been there. Distantly, as he comes down from the high, he hears Sougo grunt, and he knows it's over, at least for now. For now.

It's still cold, despite their sweat-slicked skin, so they don't move too far from each other; Kamui curls between Sougo and Takasugi, laying beside each other like sardines, and they wrap their arms around him, bundling their warmth together. They're messy though, all of them, and Takasugi doesn't particularly want to use the public shower up near the park, for obvious reasons, so he says to them in the moonlit chill, “Let's go swimming.”

They laugh, as if they're all in on a joke, and maybe they are.


End file.
